


Due Justice

by Napkin32



Category: Original Work
Genre: Conversations, Crimes & Criminals, Dark, Dark Past, Detectives, Dialogue Heavy, Dubious Morality, Interrogation, Justice, Moral Ambiguity, Morally Ambiguous Character, Murder, Police, Sarcasm, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25384651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Napkin32/pseuds/Napkin32
Summary: Detective Long and Mr. Cast have been locked in an interrogation room for while. Neither wants to back down, and Long isn't letting Cast go until he gets answers.





	Due Justice

**Author's Note:**

> So... this is a rewrite of another... sorta bad piece of writing I have on here. I pray this one better. Please enjoy! I took one commenter's advice from the other piece about me having too choppy of an ending, so I'm hoping I've fixed it this time around. I also can't figure out how to make indents on this website, so sorry about that :/. Anyways, thanks for reading, and please enjoy!

“Care to tell me what happened once more?” Detective Long asked, again. His eyes were narrowed and his eyebrows raised. One hand was curled around the other while there laid a hint of a smile on his self-satisfied face.

“Would this be the second or third time I’ve had to repeat myself?” I replied. I answered his bent lips with a grin of my own. His smile disappeared; he wasn’t much for a challenge. “I’m not much in the mood for telling it again. I mean, it’s only wasting your time and my own. You may only have some donut eating and power abusing scheduled, but I really am quite busy, so I must insist that I go,” I stood up and pulled away from the table or at least I attempted to. When pushing off, the handcuffs jerked me back down into my chair. I didn’t forget about them; the movement was more for the effect though watching me stumble did put a smile back on his lips.

“My apologies, Mr. Cast. I’m afraid you can’t leave quite yet. We aren’t finished yet,” Long said after I got re-established in my chair. “Though I believe you’ve already discovered your inability to leave,”. He was fully complacent now, but what had he to worry about? I was chained to a metal desk that was further screwed into the floor, a bit of an overkill if you ask me, but he was right; I wasn’t going anywhere. There must have been some kind of rights violation in this. I mean, I was handcuffed, pulled out of my home, driven to the police station, and chained here for the last two or three hours. I was left alone for the first hour, left to just sit alone, bored, and chained to a very secure table. I guessed it was some softening tactic before Mr. Detective came in for the investigation, not that it was working, but it had to be something. The town’s uneventful enough that I was surprised it even had a police department, so they were definitely not busy, especially when they had such a “high-priority” suspect. When the man himself finally did come, he made me repeat my story over and over again. I gave him the exact same story over and over again, but apparently he was neither too bored or satisfied enough to decide he had something better to do. “So your story.” And he was pressing onwards.

“I don’t really feel like answering,” I smiled and leaned backwards. Well, as far as handcuffs and ankle cuffs would realistically let me. His smile was disappearing now while a frown grew in as a replacement. Watching his frown, my smile expanded.

“The more you cooperate with me, the quicker you can leave,” He was still frowning.

“So you have somewhere to be now?” I was still smiling.

Bang! He slammed his palm on the table. “Need I remind you of the situation you’re in?”. His slam startled me a little, but I just tilted my head and kept grinning in response to his anger. I wanted to see him flare. Much to my disappointment, after his outburst, he just straightened himself in his seat and kept looking at me.

“No,” He didn’t gratify me with a response, and we sat in silence for a few minutes. I smiled at him while he frowned at me though his frown was receding. By the end, he just looked stern, and the fun was lost. I finally broke the silence, “Well, you’re demanding I tell you my story. Tell you what I’ve been doing the past few months. And I’ve told you. Repeatedly,”

He raised his eyebrows and waited a few seconds before speaking. “You’re telling me a story. But not your story, not the truth. I’m demanding you tell me the truth. Neither you nor I will be leaving this room until you do,”. He locked eyes with me, and he wasn’t lying. He really wasn’t going to leave, but neither was he going to beat me. I’d make him give up eventually. In his eyes, I saw a drive. Maybe despite his words, his patience was thinning. Before, I couldn’t find any trace of emotion beneath his surface, but now I also saw a trace of anger. This would be easier than I thought.

“My story,” I paused a bit and smiled. “Is my truth,”. I said five words and waited. As our silence drew on, I saw his eyebrows crease and his fists clench. He was expecting me to continue, but I wasn’t. I had nothing more to tell. I already told everything I was willing to tell him. So kept sitting there, leaned into each other and staring into each other’s eyes.

It seemed he finally lost patience and asked, “So you really won’t tell me then?”.

“Nope,” I shook my head.

Much to my surprise, he grinned. “Fine, then we’ll have to go through your history together. Do forgive me if I get something wrong,” He leaned back now, as if relaxed. His tranquilitiy made my smile falter a bit. But not by much.

“Wrong? You’ve heard my claims so many times now you must have it front and back. I’d honestly be a bit hurt if you get anything wrong,” I was proud of my faux disappointment, but it didn’t seem to affect him at all. His cheer was growing a bit irking now, but nothing for me to get worked up about. Even if I was now reduced to a smirk.

“No, allow me to clarify. I’m taking us further back. I found your files, and I’ve reviewed your history.” Now, he was leaning backwards and smiling.

He shouldn’t have had those files. They were sealed. Gone. Burned. Not forgotten, never forgotten, but they were mine. How did he have them? He couldn’t have them.

“How do you have those? You can’t have them,” I accused. I leaned in with the question; he met me with a grin.

“These?” He lifted a box filled with folders previously residing by his feets and set it on the table. “I made some calls to some friends. And turns out, these friends knew about you and were all too happy to give me your information,”

“They were sealed.” They were. Noone was supposed to have access to them.

“Also turns out,” He looked me in the eyes, “They aren’t in the interest of protecting bad apples,”

I forced myself to smile again. It was strained, but at least I wasn’t panicking. He couldn’t ever see me panic. “Fine, you have them. So what?” He raised his eyebrows at the strain in my face, but so what. He couldn’t do anything about my expression nor my history.

“Well I must say, I’ve learned a lot about you, Warren,” There was a gleam in his eyes and his grin widened. He picked up a file off the top of the pile and began reading, covering his face with the file. “You were thirteen when your parents were killed. How do you think that affected you?”. He moved the folder over, revealing one piercing eye and looking for further discomfort on my part.

My hands were clenching at my knees now, but he couldn’t see that though his face said he could. “You’re my therapist now?” He couldn’t dominate the conversation. I couldn’t lose control. “They died. I’ve mov- moved on,” I choked. He knew, and he pursued.

“So you’ve really moved on? It seems to me as if you’re still struggling,” While looking at me with one eye while burying the other in the file, his free hand picked up a second file, one closer to the middle. “This file tells me you’ve been seeing a therapist,” He set the first file down and bent over the table, bobbing the second in my face. I made a reach for it, but was restrained by the handcuffs. I came up short by a foot and fell back into my chair. My desperate grab seemed to reassure him.

“I’ve been getting better. Therapist’s part of that process, you know,” He only chuckled and reopened the first file, laying it out for me to see. And there they were, my parents bloodied and dead. On the left was my father, nose broken and an eye missing. On the right was my mother, teeth knocked out and both eyes gone. I struggled to tear my eyes off those photos. They were repulsive and similar to my work, my god-forsaken work. I was caught mesmerized and could feel myself shaking. I eventually succeeded, redirecting myself to look straight into Long’s eyes. He was dismissive.

“Well you aren’t crying. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you are getting better,” He pulled back the file, and I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Now let’s talk about their deaths,” My fists clenched and I was shaking again. I forced myself to keep staring at him and smile. He enjoyed the struggle. “Let’s talk about your father first; he was the first to die after all. Percy Cast. The first Percy I’ve ever heard of. Interesting name-”

“Get on with it!” If he wanted to talk, he could talk, but I wasn’t about to hear him mock my father’s name.

“Well isn’t someone in a hurry? Don’t worry, we have all day,” Long teased. He must have been breaking some regulation with his callousness, but he didn’t care and I couldn’t do much about it. “He really did not have a good time dying now did he? It was long. And painful, torturous really. Half his bones were broken. He was cut in more than a dozen places. He suffered a few stab wounds, none fatal though. They let him bleed,”

“I saw it all. I saw both my parents die cruel, terrible deaths,” I slammed the table and stood up, beginning to shout. “Is that it? Is that what you wanted me to say? Do you have anything else?” He seemed startled for a second, falling back into his chair and dropping my parents’ file. For a brief moment, he was alarmed and his cursed smile finally disappeared. I saw back down, “Now if you really have nothing to say. I’ll be calling my lawyer. I’ve no more time to waste,”

“But you won’t,” He pulled himself back into the table.

“Pardon? I think I will,” He sounded like a fool, but he was right.

“Your lawyer would be a surrender, an admittance that you’re guilty, and you’re weak,” He knew my thoughts. I couldn’t let him get the satisfaction of making me back down. Not now. “Besides, you’re my arrest and we are locked in a room together. I’m not letting you walk out of here until I have a confession.” Petenses were off. He wasn’t going to let me walk, but I wasn’t going to confess either. He smiled once more and continued, “Now back to your parents. Let’s talk about your mother, Evelynn Cast. I must say your family really had some interesting names,” He paused, looking up for a reaction but got none. I wasn’t about to gratify him with one, not again. “She watched your father bleed, bound and forced to watch him die. After your father, they had their fun with your mother; they tortured her like your father if not worse. She was ruined by the time we got there, alive but barely. She never made it to the hospital,” He trailed into silence.

“Really showing sympathy now? Where was it earlier? At least own up to the fact that you don’t give a damn! You’re just screwing with me!” I was looking right into his eyes, and it threw me. I saw sadness and real sympathy.

He remained stone-faced against my outburst, “ I was there; I saw what happened. It was despicable and I have my sympathies for the deceased,”

“But not for me,” I stated.

He nodded, “Not for you,” That should have hurt, but it didn’t. I was glad he didn’t feel sympathy for me. I felt calmed even.

I didn’t need to ask why, but we were already here, “Why?”

I tilted my head, looking into his eyes only to watch them darken before responding, “You’re a monster,” No I wasn’t. I did what was right; I did what should be done.

“No I’m not,” I turned away from him, beginning to face the side wall, but I could still see him from the corner of my eye.

He remained staring at me and asked, “Really now?” Maybe.

I turned back to him and sad, “I did what you should have,”

He knew what I was referencing, who I was referencing, and it threw him back a bit. He paused before saying, “I shot them both. Both of the robb-”

“Murderers. They were murderers.” He was about to call them robbers. And they were robbers. They robbed me of my parents, my parents of their lives. But robbery was too light a charge and death too light a punishment. After staring for a while at the table, I looked up with absent eyes.“Why didn’t you make them suffer? You shot them. They were incapacitated. Why didn’t they suffer? Why did you let them die? Why?” I felt cold, drained. Long had unlocked a memory I had sealed from long ago.

“They were to be arr-”

I interrupted him, “Yet they died. Yet they felt nothing. My parent’s felt everything. You let them go free,”

“They died,”

“But how much pain did they feel? Were they penitent? They left this world peacefully. You let them.” I accused. “But how did my parents leave? Anything but. They tortured them, mutilated them. My father begged that they not touch my mother. By the end, he just begged to die. Where was their begging? Where was their fear... and their pain?” I couldn’t understand him. How could he just let them go? He saw the horror. He mourned for my parents. So how? How could he say their death was just?

“Torture isn’t justice. Torture wouldn’t bring your parents back,” He said in a flat tone.

“Retribution is. Take what you receive. If my parents couldn’t be brought back, at least they would have been avenged.” I muttered as my voice rose. I leaned into the table towards the detective. “But no. The men escaped. They got off easy. My parents got nothing!” They had to suffer. All of them. To give peace to others, to give amends, they had to pay.

“Your justice is abhorrent. Vengeance has no place in justice. Not now, not ever,” Now he was a moralist. After goading me, after letting those men go free, now he took the ground? Funny.

“So that’s why you hunted me? For four years?” I questioned.

“You had to be stopped,” He answered with a flat face.

I hated seeing his face like that. I leapt from my chair once more while shouting, “Why stop me? To bring me to justice? After everything I’ve done? I did good. I did better than you,”

“I chased you for your crimes, for you to be brought to justice. You’re no hero. You’re a monster,”

I smiled at that. “If I’m a monster, shoot me. But don’t kill me. Make me hurt. Don’t I deserve it?”

“No. You’ll be tried, sent to prison, and possibly executed,” His stoicism was getting to me.

“How is that punishment? After everything you think I’ve done. You think I deserve prison? Death penalty even? You’d be freeing me,”

“You will be serving your debt to society,”

I suddenly lost the energy to argue with him. “If you were going to be so soft, you should’ve just let me die ten years ago. Would’ve saved us both a lot of trouble, no?” I chuckled.

“I did what I had to back then, and I did right in saving you,” I couldn’t even be annoyed by his impassivety anymore.

“Really? You’ll regret saying that,” He raised an eyebrow. “You wanted the truth, no?” He slowly nodded his head. “Fine, the truth you will have. I killed 48 people. You only did find 13 of the bodies if I remember correctly. The rest are all probably rotting somewhere,” His face showed a brief hint of shock which amused me. “But of those 13, I’m sure you witnessed my work.” He gave a prolonged pause before finally nodding. “Well, allow me to detail it anyways. I peeled their skin away, bit by bit. They would scream at first, but eventually it’d reduce to a whimper. Then, I saw their limbs off, one by one. That revived the yelling. After losing mobility and having their existence be pain, they no longer needed their senses. I cut off their nose, then their ears. I sewed their mouths shut. After witnessing my actions, I took their eyes as well. I made sure they were always conscious. If they ever fainted, I would wait till they came back to before resuming my work. Some died of shock, but most of them made it to the end. And I left them like that, powerless. They could do nothing, see nothing, hear nothing, smell nothing, say nothing. They could only feel pain. I let them die like that. For some, it took only a few days. For others, up to a week.” He was grimacing, and I smiled. “But they deserved it. They were all murderers, thieves, rapists. I may have become a monster, but so what? I was hunting other monsters, improving our world. I brought to justice those you could not,” As I finished, I could tell he was disgusted, appalled, and shocked. I suppose forensics never managed to put an accurate timeline on each body’s disfigurement.

After an extended silence, Detective Long stood up and said, “I have what I need. Thank you for your cooperation,” He stepped away from the table and tucked the chair in. Was that it? I felt disappointed, but oh well; it was over now. As I sunk into my own thoughts, I was suddenly thrown to the right with a sharp pain on the left side of my face. The only thing keeping me from hitting the floor was the handcuffs around my wrists. After restabilizing myself, I realized what happened. Long had turned around and right hooked me as I was in my own thoughts. When I stared at him in bewilderment, he scowled. “I never should have saved you,” With those final words, he turned and left the room.

I smiled.


End file.
